Isileth's Story: The Collected Tales
by Rel Fexive
Summary: A collection of the short stories featuring Isileth Adaar, Inquisitor.
1. Chapter One: On Reflection

Before Skyhold, before becoming Inquisitor, Isileth Adaar is the fledging Inquisition's top agent, and Herald Of Andraste. But where did she come from?

* * *

The ice reflected the lurid green of the Breach overhead imperfectly, Isileth noted idly. Which was only to be expected, what with its rough and fractured surface. She swung her feet freely like a child with nothing better to do, which was completely at odds with the sense of constant urgency that seemed to surround her every day. That too was only to be expected, though perhaps it could be put off.

"I thought I might find you here."

 _Not for long though_ , Isileth thought, the feeling that affairs were reaching out to envelop her again making her neck and shoulders tighten with tension. The person that had spoken was pleasant enough, she just had a tendency to be the one to deliver bad news. Or ask questions. Isileth half-turned to face her.

"Sister Nightingale," the reluctant Herald of Andraste said, greeted the Inquisition's spymaster with a nod. The woman stood at the other end of the short pier that extended out into Haven's frozen pond, hood drawn up against the wind. _I wonder what she wants this time_. "I get the feeling you always know exactly where I am."

"I would not be very good at my job if I did not," came the reply, accompanied with a slight smile. As always, the accent dripped into the ear like beguiling honey. "And please, call me Leliana." The redhead walked along the creaking planks towards Isileth, stopping a few feet short. "No need to look so worried," Leliana assured her, "no bad news or urgent missions today!"

"Really." Isileth had not meant to sound quite so sceptical but it just seemed to happen anyway. She began to adjust her position, seated at the end of the pier, in order to stand up but Leliana instead just gestured at her to stay where she was and sat down next to Isileth on the cold wood.

"I thought you might like some company," Leliana explained, "unless you'd rather I...?"

"No," Isileth replied, "it's fine." She sighed. "Though I did come here to be away from... everything." She looked sidelong at the other woman. "As far as they let me get from it, anyway."

"You think they – we – keep you around because we still suspect you were involved in the destruction of Haven?"

"Whatever I say or do," Isileth told her, frowning, "it doesn't quite seem to stop the glances or the whispers. I think some people still expect me to suddenly turn on them." The Breach, far overhead, suddenly rumbled like lingering thunder and a crackle of green light flared in her left fist. Isileth winced as the shining Mark in her palm flashed a lance of pain up her arm. After a moment it stopped and the green faded away; she let out the breath she had been holding in. "Of course, that kind of thing doesn't help."

"I think much of the behaviour of the people of Haven stems from you being the Herald." Leliana looked seriously at her, the usual humour absent and replaced with... reverence, maybe? "They know you are fighting for them, but you are something of a holy figure now, and that is not something they see every day, even up here."

"And telling them I'm really not just seems to reinforce it," Isileth said with a touch of frustration in her voice. "Denying it just makes it worse." She shook her head. "It's just ridiculous."

"They can't understand how someone could deny what is seen as entirely self-evident," Leliana continued, sounding a little tiny bit annoyed at the use of 'ridiculous' to describe her people's beliefs. _I'm going to have to watch what I say around them_. "It is strange enough that a qunari should be chosen, but you are still such a mystery to them."

The spymaster's last words had the very definite feeling of a query to them, a kind of conversational prompt that expected the person being spoken to to respond with answers of some kind. _Now it becomes clear_. Isileth let the brief pause grow into something longer, looking down at the ice below her feet again and swinging them a little. When it seemed like the redhead was almost about to speak again, Isileth spoke first.

"You could just ask," she said quietly, not really speaking to Leliana exactly but rather speaking aloud to whoever might happen to be listening. "That's been known to work." Leliana seemed to be taken aback for a moment as if she were shocked, and then chuckled.

"True," she conceded, smiling, "but I've gotten so used to playing the Game I forget that it does actually work on most people." She shrugged. "Expecting deception at every turn makes you forget simple honesty."

"What do you know already?" Isileth asked, dreading the answer. Who knew how much this highly proficient and, yes, distractingly attractive woman had already discovered? _But it's not like there's actually much to know, is there?_ She almost laughed out loud at the idea that someone might think she was a spy for the Qun or something. Though there was a bit of that going around right now...

"I know you served as a mercenary," Leliana began, "and that you come from Ostwick, in the Free Marches." She seemed to be mentally ticking off points on her fingers. "You were hired for security during the Conclave, and, well, we all know the main points after that." Leliana turned to look frankly at Isileth. "That really is about it, beyond personal details like a general lack of religious belief, all-round stubbornness-" she smiled "- and a pragmatic attitude."

"I grew up in a village _near_ Ostwick," Isileth corrected her. Leliana conceded the point with a nod, and Isileth could see her filing the information away somewhere behind her eyes. "The only... vashoth, I guess... that I saw until I left were my mother and father." She paused for a moment in remembrance. "My father gave me my first bow and taught me to use it. My mother made me curious about the world and taught me a lot. I never asked what they did before I was born and they never told me."

"You never met any other qunari before you left home?" Leliana's question sounded simple enough but it really made her sound like she was really going for the whole _enemy_ _spy_ angle.

"As I have recently been informed," Isileth said with a trace of bitterness in her voice, "I can not truly call myself a qunari. I am not a follower of the Qun." _Another thing taken from me by the expectations of others_. She sighed. "I am more properly a vashoth, but most people don't know to make the distinction. I don't really think of myself as either... it's just what people call me and I have to go with it."

"So how _would_ you describe yourself?" Leliana looked at her with singular intent, like this was an important question. Which in some ways, it was.

"I guess I'm a Marcher, for whatever that's worth," Isileth said with a shrug. "It's where I grew up."

"So independently-minded, stubbornly resistant of obvious labels, and willing to ally with your difficult neighbours against a common foe?" There was a slight smile on Leliana's lips.

"Seems appropriate, right?" Isileth agreed with a lop-sided grin. They shared a laugh.

"What made you leave your village?" Leliana was still chuckling as she asked the question.

"I was interested in history, and how much we don't know about the past." Isileth pulled a face. "I wanted to go out and investigate ancient ruins, uncover long-lost secrets, and have adventures." She idly rubbed the palm of her left hand with the fingers of the right. "But without things like a so-called 'proper' education, financing, and the backing of a patron I'd end up a porter on some vanity expedition, or worse." She pointed to her broken horns. "These make people assume you're only good for hitting people or frowning menacingly at them."

"You may find the Inquisition affords you the opportunity to investigate such things," Leliana suggested, "though only after we close the Breach and the crisis is over."

"Somehow I doubt that," Isileth said glumly.

"How did you end up signing a mercenary contract?" Leliana asked following a long silence.

"It sounds ridiculous, but..." Isileth just ploughed on. "I wanted to earn enough to fund my own expedition." She grimaced. "I don't really think I had any idea about how much those can cost or how much mercenaries get paid. But it was better than being stuck somewhere doing a hitting job or... some other kind of job... so, it seemed like a good idea at the time." Isileth stared at her feet. "There aren't exactly that many opportunities for anyone who looks like me." She looked at Leliana again. "But... I came to enjoy the mercenary life. Travelling, meeting new people, and... well, yes, fighting them more often than not. The comradeship, the challenges." She nodded. "Those were worth it."

"If it's not too personal a question..." Leliana began carefully after a long moment. Isileth just raised an eyebrow at her and the spymaster continued. "How did you... break your horns?"

Isileth stared at her for a second before bursting out in laughter. Through the laughing she could see that Leliana looked quite offended.

"It's okay," Isileth wheezed, "not laughing... at you..." She got herself back under control and coughed. "I was expecting something a bit more actually personal," she explained, "it's not a taboo subject or anything. So, short answer." She flashed a grin. "A careless cave exploration and a low roof... followed by a rockfall. A big one." Leliana smiled in response.

"As a mercenary?"

"Yes, and they never let me forget it." Isileth found a warm smile on her face as she remembered the embarrassing incident in question. Some of the people involved had died at Haven while the rest of the company had survived... and were out there, somewhere. "I was convinced that... Well, I'll start at the beginning..."

The telling of the tale went on for some time.


	2. Chapter Two: The Dawn

The Inquisitor wakes with the rising sun after a night with her lover... WARNING: Minor spoilers for the Sera romance. Also, naughtiness.

* * *

The first rays of the morning's sun crept slowly across the room, turned into a multitude of colours by the glittering panes of stained glass in the windows. They illuminated the big, four-poster bed in the centre of the room and tickled its inhabitants into wakefulness. Or at least, one of them.

It seemed to Isileth, in the light of all that was going on in the world, that some might think it selfish for her to feel as happy as she did. As if being happy was out of place amongst the chaos, intrigue and war, possibly even self-indulgent or unfair when others were suffering. And yet... that smile would just not get off of her face.

Carefully easing herself out from under the heavy sheets of the bed, the qunari stood and looked at the bed's other occupant. Only Sera's head and one arm was visible over the covers, the rest of her unfortunately curled up snugly out of view. Her hair somehow managed to be even more of a mess than usual, and... yes, she was even snoring a little.

Isileth turned away before her smile grew into a grin so wide it threatened to make her head fall in half, or something equally outlandish.

"Vashedan," she muttered out loud. "I'm blathering even to myself." She stopped and looked around, frowning; no movement from the bed, and no one else to hear her talk to herself. Good thing, too; it would probably just start rumours of her speaking with the Maker, or something.

Isileth took a sip from a glass of water that stood on her desk. HER desk; that still took some getting used to, even after all this time. The reports and notes strewn across it could stay where they were for now, she decided. The rest of the world could wait for a while.

Carefully pulling one of the windows open, trying to be as quiet as she could, the Inquisitor stepped out onto the balcony facing the sun. She was glad of the blanket she had grabbed from the foot of the bed; despite the sun, it was a cold morning. The light made the surrounding peaks gleam with golden fire, and the cries of distant birds could be heard on the wind. Skyhold seemed quiet, as if no one else was awake yet, but Isileth knew it only looked that way on the surface. The Inquisition was waking, ready for action.

She heard movement behind her.

"'Teetness!"

Isileth smiled (was she ever going to get tired of doing that?) and shook her head a little ruefully. She still hadn't decided if that nickname was better or worse than "Inky". Or "Tadwinks" for that matter.

Sera stepped through the gap in the window and stood beside her, naked as... well, as she had been the previous night. Not that Isileth was complaining.

"Brrr!" the elf exclaimed suddenly, as if the idea of it being cold on the balcony had never occurred to her. "It's bloody nippy out here!"

Isileth glanced briefly to the side and confirmed that yes, it certainly was that. Sera sniggered.

"I saw you looking!" she said gleefully. "Looking's good. Doing's better. Come on," the elf demanded, rubbing her upper arms with her hands, "share that blanket!" Her grin was infectious and entirely naughty. Isileth pretended to think about it for a moment before opening her arms, and the blanket, to allow her lover to step into both of them. "Ooh, I like this!" Sera said as she wrapped her arms around Isileth's waist.

"I am glad you approve," Isileth said with mock gravity. In truth, she had to agree. It had the advantage, one amid many, of putting Sera's all but irresistible lips within easy reach, a fact the taller woman took immediate benefit of. Judging by the reaction it had been the right choice.

When they separated a little breathlessly a few moments later, Sera's eyes flicked downwards between them for a moment before returning upwards to hold Isileth's eyes again, accompanied by that giggling snort that made her nose crinkle up so adorably.

"I still... can't believe..." It was like she could barely get the words out amidst the laughter.

"Breathe, Sera," Isileth reminded her with a smile.

"I can't believe you... shaved a kitten... onto your kitten!" She broke down into a fit of giggles again as Isileth just blinked.

"A... kitten?"

"You know what I mean," Sera said, smiling. Isileth felt a hand move down her side and across her hip. "Small and furry, yeah? And when I stroke it," she continued, speaking more softly, "it makes you purr." The briefest touch of a slim hand suddenly made Isileth's breath catch in her throat.

"I think I get it," she said a little wryly once she could speak again.

"Got it often enough already!" Sera said cheekily. Isileth grinned, and then frowned.

"It was supposed to be a heart," she explained. "I think. With an arrow in it." Sera's eyebrows raised in an expression of pure disbelief. "You try doing that upside down," Isileth continued defensively, "or in a mirror. It's harder than you think."

"Is that what it was?" The elf looked positively incredulous. "I thought it was, well, I said didn't I. With a finger." Her grin grew wider as she wiggled her eyebrows. "Or maybe a tongue, yeah?" More sniggering ensued.

"Maybe next time," Isileth told her, which just made Sera laugh even more, which considering their very close proximity certainly made things quite interesting under the blanket.

"I don't care anyway," Sera announced eventually, smiling happily as she laid her head on Isileth's chest and made a contended noise. "I just like that you put the effort in, yeah?" She looked up at the taller woman through her lashes. "I always like the extra effort." She snickered. "It was a good idea, I just like mine better, that's all."

"I like yours, too," Isileth replied, putting absolutely no specific inflection on any of the words in the slightest... but accompanying them with a wicked little smile of her own. Naturally this prompted more sniggering, which Isileth was slightly surprised to find she wasn't even remotely tired of hearing yet.

"I think I worked that out myself!" Sera grinned, and stood up on tip-toes as if to reach up for a kiss. Instead, lips brushed across Isileth's collarbone, making her shiver. Sera's eyes caught hers for a moment, and then mischief glittered into life in them. Suddenly stepping away and out of the qunari's arms, Sera leant back against the stone railing of the balcony and posed, one hand on hip, and of course still entirely without a stitch of clothing on.

"I think we should definitely do it out here," she announced loudly, so loudly that for a moment Isileth was worried they might hear her in the courtyard below.

"Wait- What?" Isileth was rarely surprised, but this was clearly one of those times.

"You worried someone's going to see us?" Sera asked, looking around pointedly. "We're in the highest tower! You think the birds are going tell anyone?" For a surreal second Isileth had a vision some birds reporting back, in detail, what they had seen to Leliana; she wisely decided against telling Sera about it. Ever.

"Or maybe," Sera continued, slowly running her hand from her hip, across her belly, and then upwards, "you're just worried they'll hear you singing my praises like a drunk bard all across the Frostbacks. Then everyone will know what we're up to!"

"I thought everyone already knew," Isileth said, after taking a moment to find her voice. The view was extremely distracting... and it was not the landscape that was the problem for a change. Her eyes seemed uncertain as to quite where they should come to rest.

"Well, they definitely will before long," Sera smirked. She held out her arms and beckoned with both hands. "I'm freezing here! Come warm me up!"

Smiling, Isileth approached the elf and wrapped her arms around her lover once more, lifting her a little so their faces were closer together. Sera smiled like the cat that had got the cream.

"Like I told you, yeah? _Height_." She kissed the point of Isileth's chin. "Looking's good." Another kiss, almost on her lips. "Doing's better."

The wind carried the sound of laughter to the courtyard below.


	3. Chapter Three: The Dance

After the drama in the Winter Palace, the Inquisitor and her lover attempt something new: dancing. Dialogue as reported by an unseen observer, allegiance unknown.

* * *

 **Intelligence report – overheard on a balcony in Halamshiral.**

 **PRESENT: Lady Adaar, Inquisitor; "Sera", Inquisition agent (no further information available)**

[music from ballroom - loud]

"Ow! You stepped on my feet again!"

"That's because you keep moving them out of time with the rhythm."

"No, it's because you keep squashing them with your big feet!"

"Well, you know what they say about people with big feet..."

"Yeah – they keep squishing my bloody toes!"

"Maybe something simpler, then, less footwork..."

"I can do footwork, I'm good at footwork, right? You just watch me!"

[scuffling of feet]

"Ow! Where did you learn to dance like this anyway? I thought you just spent all your time looking moody and punching people in the face for money?"

"One nobleman employed us for protection and had the idea that we could blend in with his party guests. By the time he realised how obvious a qunari is in a ballroom we'd learnt quite a few of the more popular dances..."

"You certainly were obvious! Towering over everyone, looming everywhere, making them feel small, yeah? Hah! Bet they didn't like that!"

"Hard to tell under the masks. But the atmosphere did turn a little chilly."

[scuffling of feet]

"Piss! This is harder than it looks!"

"Let's try something else then... A different tune...?"

"As long as it's not that song. The one about me. Don't you think that's well creepy?"

"I'm not sure I'm the one to say. There are probably hundreds of total strangers writing songs about me all over Thedas right now, and not all of them complimentary. At least Maryden has actually met you".

"Still thinks she wants in my knickers."

"Well, she is out of luck."

"Oooh, look at you all frowny! You going to fight her for me, yeah?" [pause] "Love that."

[indistinct sounds]

"How can you like that stupid song?"

"It's... catchy. And... it does kind of describe you really well."

"You just want me to tempt your fate, that's what it is!"

"Is that another one to add to the list, then?"

"Hah! That's on your list already, I can see it in your face! Totally on the list, that one, yeah?"

"Totally."

"Along with the Qun one, and Grey your Warden, and Capture your Keep, and Crumble your Cookie, and Something Something Rift Something, and Arl your Edmund or whatever it was. Who's Edmund?"

"Not sure. Someone Varric knew, I think."

"You talked to Varric about this?!"

"Varric talks just fine without anyone's help. It's hard to stop him sometimes. I think it was some story or other from Kirkwall."

"Think I've got the hang of this now. Balls! Maybe not."

"At least it was my foot this time."

"Maybe we should just give up on stupid proper dancing and just dance like people instead of nobs, yeah?"

[the music from the ballroom changes]

"Better."

"Easier for the clumsy idiot you mean!"

"And you're neither."

"Aaarrgh!" [pause] "Wasn't... expecting... whoosh!"

"A little lift to lift your spirits."

"Warn me next time!"

[scuffling of feet]

"I think you're getting the hang of this."

"I can see why they do so much dancing..."

"I don't think the nobility of Orlais hold onto their dance partners quite like that, though."

"Makes it more fun though, yeah?"

[indistinct sounds]

"I don't think that will become the fashion, either."

"Not while they wear those stupid masks it won't."

"Their loss."

"My gain. That's the kind of thing they say, isn't it? Sounds pretentious enough."

"When they aren't saying Blah, blah, blah! Obey me!"

[both at once] "ARROW IN THE FACE!"

[giggling]

"You still got your" [pause] "other kitten?"

"Maybe you'll find out later."

"No maybe about that!"

"Do you fancy-"

"YES!"

"-a spin around the ballroom now?"

"Oh." [pause] "That another in-your-endy thingy?"

"You know, I think it could be."

[subjects return to ballroom]

 **CONCLUSION: INTELLIGENCE VALUE: zero.**


	4. Chapter Four: The Rain

There's nothing like a good fight to get the heart really pumping...

* * *

With a final screech, the dragon stumbled and collapsed, its huge weight making the ground shudder like an earthquake. Its last breath rumbled in that vast throat before the torso fell still at last. The shattered grove became silent.

Isileth took a moment to catch her breath, leaning on her bow for support. It had been a lengthy fight but the Vinsomer had finally fallen. Turning her face upwards, the Inquisitor let the rain wash the blood from her face before smoothing her hair down between her horns. The weird lighting the dragon had... breathed? ...on them had made her crest of hair stand up even more than usual.

Nearby, Bull was grinning widely as he flicked the gore from his massive axe. It looked like his attempt to engage Vivienne in some kind of victory banter was proving less than successful, if the mage's expression was anything to go by. The massive qunari eventually gave up, looking almost contrite. _One of these days_ , Isileth thought, _I'm going to have to figure out why he's like that around her_.

Meanwhile, Sera was walking slowly towards the body of the dragon, bow still held loosely in one hand. She stopped close enough to touch it and seemed almost about to do exactly that – only to stop herself at the last moment. Then she turned around and, seeing Isileth, smiled toothily and did something that could only be described as a cross between running on the spot and some sort of jig. Only the very charitable would have called it a victory dance, but that was clearly what it was.

Isileth just stared. Sera's leather armour had been burnt in places by the dragon's lightning, she was splattered with dragon blood and who knew what else, the streaming rain had plastered her unruly hair flat against her head so her ears stuck out even more than usual... but Sera's smile and the sheer intensity of her gaze, the joy in her expression, eclipsed it all. She was a mess, as they all were, but she was magnificent.

Had anyone asked her, of course, Isileth would have been the first to admit she was somewhat biased.

"Taarsidath-an halsaam," Isileth said, quite loudly, before her brain could catch up with the rest of her and keep her mouth firmly shut.

Behind her, Bull suddenly let loose a booming laugh before making a noise that sounded like he had tried to stuff a fist into his mouth to stop it. It just ended up as a kind of sniffling sound instead that receded as he moved away, probably trying not to make it any worse.

"You sound like you've swallowed something disagreeable, darling," Vivienne asked him, following after the mercenary. "I'd hate to think we went through all that only for you to choke on a fly..."

Sera hooked her bow over one shoulder before running her fingers through her hair, trying to get the water out. It did not really work – it was still raining. She rubbed some blood off her cheek and then finally seemed to notice Isileth still watching her. Another smile, but of an entirely different kind, crept across her face.

"Something you wanted?" the elf asked lightly, the smile going a little lop-sided.

"Definitely," Isileth replied emphatically with a smile of her own. Sera sniggered and shook her head suddenly, spraying water everywhere. It left her hair sticking out in pretty much every direction.

"I just _love_ all this nature stuff, yeah?" Sera said, her tone indicating very clearly how she really felt. She began to take slow steps towards Isileth. "At least cities have roofs. And arches. And alleyways. And..." She stopped just within arm's reach and looked up into Isileth's eyes before she spoke again. "Hot baths," she breathed, like the idea of them was some kind of holy deliverance from the cold.

"Pretty sure Skyhold has those too," Isileth murmured, reaching out to lift a drop of water from the end of Sera's nose with one finger.

"You'll make me sneeze!" the elf exclaimed, looking worried. "I don't want bogies all over you!" She laughed.

"It wouldn't be very dignified, darling," Isileth said in imitation of Vivienne, but Sera just snorted.

"Bugger dignified," she stated, as if 'dignified' was the worst thing to be, _ever_. "I might get them on me! I don't want them back!"

"Maybe we should go back to camp," Isileth suggested, smiling, "and out of the rain."

"Maybe..." Sera began, looking slyly thoughtful, "we should send Vivi and Bully off to get the boat ready and we can stay here and... look for more loot."

"I think we searched pretty thoroughly already," Isileth reminded her in a mock serious tone. "Where were you thinking of looking?"

"Maybe there's a... nook we haven't uncovered yet." Sera's smile, and the direction of her gaze made her thinking clear.

"I'd rather uncover out of the rain, wouldn't you?" They both looked up at the stormy sky, blinking as the rain splashed down on them and showing no signs of stopping. They looked back at each other again, smiling like cats that were about to get their catnip, when Sera suddenly shivered violently.

"Urgh! Rain down the back of my neck!" Sera twisted around one way and then the other, reaching back to try and rub at her back where the water had trickled down. Isileth tried, with some success, not to laugh.

"That settles it then," the Inquisitor announced. "Back to camp."

* * *

Isileth had to admit that tents pitched in a cave formed from basalt columns was one of the weirder places they had set up camp. It did have one advantage over the other Inquisition camps on the Coast, however – the rain was kept out completely. It also meant the fires kept the camp moderately warm, at least when the wind was not whistling around the tunnels, making an annoying wailing noise.

Bull had already mopped himself dry with a number of old blankets and moved off in search of something to drink. Vivienne was probably perched somewhere quiet reading some weighty tome on magic... or the latest Swords And Shields. Isileth chuckled at the thought of that image.

"Hey!" called a voice from the nearest tent. "Am I missing out on funny?" Sera's head poked out from the canvas flaps. Her hair had been tamed to something resembling flatness but her grin was as unruly as ever.

"Nothing really," Isileth told her, smiling. She glanced up and down the cave tunnel briefly before looking back at Sera again. Something in her expression made Sera's eyes go wide and even brought a slight redness to her cheeks, before that teasing grin swept back across her face again. The elf snatched her head back inside the tent as Isileth walked over and slipped in after her. She had to bend over a little to fit in, which helpfully brought her face closer to Sera's.

Sera had already removed her scorched armour and stood looking up at Isileth in just the under-shirt and leggings she wore underneath. She had removed the scarf she usually wore around her neck and it left her looking strangely vulnerable.

"This is cosy," Sera whispered, that hint of red still visible on her face around the grin. Moving a little closer to the taller woman, she began to undo the fasteners on the qunari's armoured coat. "What was that thing you said earlier?" she asked. "Tari-dali-hathi-whatever. What was that? Cos the look you had on you... _woof_."

Isileth smiled before leaning down and putting her lips next to Sera's left ear. She let them brush across it for a moment before whispering the translation to her. Sera swallowed, loudly, before smirking up at her lover with a wicked look in her eyes.

"Do I get to watch?" she asked cheekily, before sniggering. Isileth let Sera help her remove her gauntlets and then get her out of her coat, not speaking. Then she took a small knife from her belt and held it up between them. Sera looked at it for a moment before lifting her eyes back to Isileth's, frowning. "Have you gone wappy?" she asked, confused.

Isileth just smiled and carefully put the tip of the knife just under the top lace of Sera's under-shirt, blade upwards. A little pressure and the lace split in half; it was a very sharp knife, one that the Inquisitor had ordered made while exploring the path of the Assassin. She had taken a different path, in the end, but the knife was too useful not to keep. Then Isileth moved the knife blade down to the next lace. Sera stared at it for a long moment before speaking.

"If you keep that up," she said quietly but with a definite huskiness to her voice, "I won't be able to wear it later." She looked up at Isileth again, this time through her lashes, something the tall woman had found made her utterly irresistible. A half smile crept across Sera's face and the other half appeared on Isileth's lips in reply.

"Later can wait," Isileth told her softly, and cut the next lace.


	5. Chapter Five: The Tavern

Between missions, Isileth and Sera take a well-earned break.

* * *

The Herald's Rest was busy, as it often was after long weeks away in distant corners of Thedas. Time spent in strange places, facing aggressive foes and equally aggressive wildlife, always made the Inquisition's people glad to return to their home and relax. The tavern, inevitably, became the focus of their relaxation – if drinking, singing and occasionally brawling could be considered relaxing.

Isileth smiled to see Lace Harding leading the loud sing-a-long to Maryden's latest song, albeit one that tended to use different and fairly obscene alternative lyrics. The first in and the last out, the dwarf always earned the right to make some minor musical modifications in the Inquisitor's book, even if few of them ever actually rhymed.

Sat beside her at the secluded table they had managed to find, Sera was laughing, of course. Isileth would not have put it past her to suggest some alterations to Lace herself, which went part of the way to explaining the laughing and the redness of her face. Ale, though, played a larger part, which was fair enough as Isileth could feel it having much the same effect on her.

She would also have been the first to admit that "secluded" barely covered it; it was on the second floor, just next to Sera's room, and any seclusion it got was mainly down to how drunk everyone else was.

Turning to face Isileth again, Sera continued her story.

"So then," she said, making expansive gestures to demonstrate, "she went down BAM! and then it was get the goodies time!"

"I know," Isileth said patiently for the third time, "I _was_ there you know."

"Hah! It's you I was talking about!" Sera giggled raucously. "Went down!" The elf all but rolled off her chair with laughing. Isileth grabbed her arm to keep her upright but it took two goes before she pulled Sera back upright. The laughing was infectious, as it turned out, so it was some time before Isileth could get her breath back to speak.

"So," she began, waving her mug a little vaguely, "what is it with you, anyway?" Sera just frowned at her with blurry eyes. " _Dragons_ ," Isileth said. "You and dragons. What's the reason you're so big on them? I mean, I get Bull, they're like, as close to sacred as qunari get."

"You've been dying to ask this one, yeah?" Sera smiled slyly. "Especially after the Vinsomer." They both smirked at that particular memory and Isileth nodded. "It's sort of complicated," Sera told her, "like, there's layers. Petticoats. Like them. With legs underneath." She glanced at Isileth's legs appreciatively.

"So..." Isileth prompted, drawing her lover's attention back to the original subject. "It's complicated?"

"Well, see, dragons, the big flying ones, they're the biggest, scariest things ever, yeah?" Sera's hands made a shape like a flying bird, thumbs together and fingers flapping. "They're the toughest things anyone knows, they've got fire or ice or lighting and they own any place they like. And they're all female, the big ones." She giggled. "Big, powerful lizard ladies that everyone is scared of. Great, right? No one messes with them. They are... large and in charge!" They both had a good laugh at that.

"Except..." Sera continued and held up a finger as if to make a point... and then wiggled it a little suggestively and grinned. "Right, so, who challenges dragons? Only nutters... or the only other big sexy woman everyone everywhere is scared of!" She pointed her finger at Isileth. "Woof! Nothing hotter than that!" The elf took a swig of ale and went on. "But then, I was thinking, yeah? After we fought that first one together." Sera frowned in concentration. "It's a big, scary monster that does what it wants and kills anyone who disagrees, and we're just people, little things next to that monster, but together we can take it down and steal its stuff. Teach a lesson to the other big monsters, keep 'em in their place."

"So... they're big, tough and awesome women no one messes with..." Isileth said in summary, "hot like your girlfriend... _and_ they represent the Jenny versus nobles conflict?" She considered for a moment. "Okay, I can see that's complicated. And it explains your... attitude." Isileth tried to wiggle her eyebrows suggestively, but she was not entirely sure it really worked. Sera seemed to like it, though, to judge by her cheeky grin.

Another sip of ale later, and Sera spoke first.

"Did you really have a lover that called you Handles?" she asked loudly in a pause in the background singing. Sadly, the pause meant her voice carried further than Isileth would have liked. By the innocent look on Sera's face over her mug, Isileth knew it had been intentional. Fortunately, she had had enough ale herself that it did not worry her too much.

 _I knew I shouldn't have told her that_. Isileth mentally shrugged and pondered her response.

"Yes," the Inquisitor and Herald Of Andraste finally admitted with a glum expression, "I really did. He thought he was being really funny, and he was, at the time..." She grimaced. "Right up to the point that he used it in front of the entire company. Then it wasn't funny any more. He didn't stick around long after that." Isileth frowned. "Might've been the arrow wounds he needed treating. Couldn't really say."

"Yeah!" Sera smirked. "That always teaches 'em to-" She suddenly broke off, wide-eyed, as her brain caught up with what she had just heard.

"Another one called me that too," Isileth went on, seemingly oblivious to Sera's reaction but actually resisting the urge to laugh herself. "She thought she was being so original, but no obviously not so that didn't end well either..." Sera seemed to be choking on something so Isileth 'noticed' her predicament. "Is something wrong?" she asked as innocently as she could manage – Sera had earned a little payback. "Are you okay?"

"You said..." The elf seemed to be struggling to get her words out. " _He?_ " Her voice had risen to a squeak that was somewhere between shocked and mortified.

"That's right," Isileth said calmly, though she was beginning to worry that this had not been quite the right time for such a revelation. "I, uh, sometimes I am attracted to different sorts of people, and, well, some of them have been men." She made a half-shrug. "It's not really _that_ big a deal." She looked at Sera, concern on her face. "That's... not a problem, is it?"

Sera just stared for a moment and then broke down in that giggling snort that was definitely on the adorable side of annoying, whatever anyone else said.

"So sometimes you..." Sera gasped out, "sometimes you just want a..." She was practically holding her sides in pain with tears running from her eyes as she laughed.

 _Not sure if this is a good reaction or not_.

"It's fine, really," Sera finally said once she had gotten control back. "Unexpected, yeah? But okay." She blinked as if something had occurred to her. "Is that why you always go and see Cullen?" She grinned naughtily. "Thinking of getting some Cully-Wully were you?"

"What?!" Isileth said as indignantly as she could manage. "No! He's just a friend, a colleague!"

"I bet you thought about it though!"

"No!" Isileth told her. "I absolutely-" _definitely did at one point_ "-did not!"

"And what about the Bull, yeah?" Sera smirked lewdly. "Can you even imagine what _that_ would be like?" The way she said it made it very clear exactly what she was talking about.

Isileth was on the verge of spluttering out something ill-advised when Sera leaned forward and slipped a hand onto her thigh.

"Got you, Honey Tongue," she murmured with a little smile. Isileth fought the urge to either sulk or strangle her lover, and instead took and released a deep breath. Sera's smile got a little wider as she appreciated the effect that intake of air had on some of her Inquisitor's salient features.

"Got you, too," Isileth told Sera in a desperate attempt to claw something resembling a win back from her. "Kind of."

"Call it a draw, then," Sera nodded. "This time!" She paused for a moment. "So... have you really... been with... you know."

"Yes," Isileth said quietly. "But it's you and me, now, against the world, remember? It's no different if it had always been women. I guess I sort of prefer women, over men, anyway, mostly." She saw Sera smirk. "Not like that!"

"Yeah, like that!" Sera snickered. "But we've got that in common at least, yeah? Liking the women best?"

"Yes, but... it's okay, isn't it?" Isileth searched Sera's face for any sign it really was a problem.

"'Course it is!" Sera said, taking Isileth's hands in her own delicate ones, a serious expression on her face. "Told you, I don't share, and that includes past people too. It's just you and me here, yeah? No one else." Isileth felt suddenly relieved and in the wake of the sudden absence of tension could not stop herself from laughing, which naturally Sera was only too happy to join in with.

"I could've picked a better moment," Isileth said with a wry smile, shaking her head.

"Could've been worse," Sera snorted, "how about if-"

"Ladies!" The voice was as big as the person it issued from. The laughter and the talking had distracted them enough that his usually highly noticeable approach had gone unheeded. "Is there anything I can get for you?"

Isileth and Sera just looked up at the Iron Bull, standing there expectantly with a wide smile on his face, before breaking down in uncontrollable laughter.

Bull's smile slowly drooped as his boss and her lover sniggered like naughty novices. Eventually he just left them to it.


	6. Chapter Six: The Garden

A brief respite in Skyhold leads to a discussion between friends.

* * *

With her eyes closed, Isileth concentrated on the warmth of the sun on her face and body, feeling its heat penetrate her skin and work its magic on the tired muscles beneath. She knew it was not really doing that, of course, but that mental image aided the meditation state she was attempting to attain. The gentle perfumes of the flowers were also helpful, deep breaths drawing the sweet scents into her like a healing balm.

She could feel the texture of the simple wooden bench she sat on against her legs, sense the slightest breeze ruffle the crest of her white hair, hear the buzzing of insects in her ears. She drew these impressions in and used them to replace the fatigue, the worries, and the pain of her healing injuries, both large and small. In this way the struggles and losses of a completed expedition could be put behind her in preparation for the next. Something in the Frostback Basin, apparently, if Lace's scouts were right.

Finally feeling replenished, Isileth opened her eyes and looked around Skyhold's garden. It never ceased to amaze her how the little square of green could survive so high up in the mountains – another of the many mysteries of Skyhold. The Inquisitor was always glad that of the many strange enigmas she had encountered since the whole crazy business had started at Haven this was by far the most pleasing and the least dangerous.

Across the garden the qunari woman could see Morrigan sat beside her son on the benches next to the stone gazebo. The legendary witch appeared to be giving Kieran a lesson in something that required a huge book to explain; the book itself rested on the boy's knees and he was reading it intently as his mother talked.

Suddenly Isileth found Kieran was staring right at her; his mother seemed not to have noticed. They looked at each other for a long moment, and Isileth wondered what it was that he saw with those strange eyes of his.

"I always find it so peaceful here."

The voice broke into Isileth's thoughts and scattered them out of reach. In the moment it took to blink Keiran's gaze returned to his book as if his eyes had never left it. Perhaps they had not. With a sigh and a sense of loss she could not entirely articulate, the Inquisitor turned to face the person who had spoken.

Cassandra stood in the archway to Isileth's left, leaning against the stone pillar. She had an uncharacteristic, almost wistful smile on her face as she took in the garden, her relaxed posture very different from the way she usually held herself. This changed as she looked to her Inquisitor, becoming more guarded; something in Isileth's face must have spoken of her ill-defined irritation.

"I did not mean to disturb you," the Seeker said, her tone both apologetic and stiff. "I will leave you be if you do not wish for my company." Isileth took a deep breath and shook her head.

"No, it's okay," she said, "I was just..." She frowned. "I'm not really sure what I was doing. You surprised me, I guess." Isileth gestured to the space on the planks beside her. "Please, I'd enjoy some company."

"Thank you." Cassandra pushed herself upright and walked down the steps before taking the offered place. She watched Morrigan and Keiran herself for a moment. "After all the stories I have heard of her," Cassandra said quietly, "all the tales of the witch who fought the Blight, I would never have expected to see her like this. A mother teaching her son." She shook her head. "But then, his father was an exceptional man, and I am sure he is responsible for this new side of her."

"That sounds a little like the start of a story to me," Isileth told her, smiling slightly.

"I met him once," Cassandra replied, nodding. "Warden-Commander Cousland visited his Orlesian counterpart just the once, in Val Royeaux, and I was present. He was... surprisingly modest." The Seeker glanced at Isileth. "Not unlike yourself."

"You mean he wasn't ten feet tall and didn't eat his enemies for breakfast?" Isileth grinned.

"I mean," Cassandra responded firmly, "he was not given to boasting about his deeds, and preferred to make light of things." She stopped for a moment, recalling that distant day. "There was also something... compelling about him. A... nobility of purpose, perhaps, that went beyond his years. Fighting the Blight made him who he was. I have no doubt that it was he that brought about this change in Morrigan. He and their child, that is."

Isileth thought back to the conversations she had had with Morrigan, about Cousland and their son, and agreed that Cassandra definitely had the right of it.

"Times of great upheaval often bring out the best in people." Isileth shrugged. "And the worst."

"Such it is with you, my friend." Cassandra was looking at her intently. "It is hard not to see such pivotal figures as chosen for their roles. Chosen, for good or ill."

"Chosen by the Maker?" Cassandra nodded, and Isileth just shook her head. "I know there are a lot of people who believe that, want it to be true, but..." She sighed. "Everything I've seen tells me it wasn't fate, just coincidence that put _me_ there instead of someone, anyone else." The qunari grimaced. "There was no plan to it. It just was."

Cassandra clearly saw something in Isileth's face, however much she tried to hide it.

"But...?" the Nevarran prompted gently.

"But..." Isileth sighed in something resembling defeat. "To happen to be just the sort of person who could do what was needed... To take up that orb. Survive the explosion. Wield the power of the Mark, the Anchor, against Corypheus. Be a leader, however much I just don't want to be one." She made a face. "Some might say that's a couple dozen coincidences too far."

"And that is why they name you Herald Of Andraste." Cassandra seemed to be fighting the urge to smile and not entirely succeeding.

"I'm happy believing I'm in control of my own future," the Herald stated, sounding a little angry, or possibly petulant. "If nothing else, at least I get to make my own decisions that way."

"Umm..." Suddenly Cassandra looked awkward. "That was... something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Conversations that start that way rarely go well, in my experience," Isileth said, hoping that the subject would be far removed from religious issues. _I am my own person_ , she reminded herself. _There's nothing controlling my destiny but me_.

"I know it's not my place to say," Cassandra continued, looking more uncomfortable by the second, "but..." She trailed off, apparently uncertain how to proceed.

"Just spit it out," Isileth said, making it sound more like an order than she had intended. Cassandra seemed to gather herself.

"Why Sera?" she blurted out, looking almost surprised at her outburst. "Why her, of all people?" Isileth took a deep breath and tried not to see the question as some kind of insult.

"Why her _what_?" the Inquisitor asked quietly but with a hint of steel in her tone. Cassandra made that throaty sound of exasperation and ploughed on.

"Why take her as a lover, when she is just so... so..." The Seeker frowned and made pained expressions as she struggled to find the right words, if they even existed. "Undisciplined. Undirected. Infuriating. Disrespectful. Impulsive. Insulting. Foul-mouthed. Immature." A shaking of the head expressed every other way she did not approve of Sera very eloquently. "She is just... unsuitable."

"For the Herald Of Andraste, you mean?" Isileth's voice was surprisingly calm... perhaps worryingly so, if one knew her well. Cassandra nodded mutely, the look in her eyes showing concern that she had gone too far. Isileth just shrugged.

"She makes me happy." The Inquisitor's simple response was perhaps not what Cassandra had been expecting. Just saying it put a smile on Isileth's face as it brought Sera to mind, as so many things often seemed to. She could practically hear her lover blowing a raspberry in reply to Cassandra's criticisms before grinning cheekily and responding with biting criticisms of her own.

"Is that it?" Cassandra looked incredulous. Stunned, maybe.

"Of course not," Isileth replied easily, the weight of Cassandra's censure slipping away easier than she had expected it would. "She can be frustrating, I'll give you that, but..." After a moment's thought she continued. "Her life has made her the way she is. She can be gentle, and she cares a lot more than you think. She's dedicated her life to helping those too helpless to help themselves. She makes me laugh, and she keeps me grounded. Reminds me there's more to save in Thedas than Chantries and empires and kingdoms." Isileth looked at the Seeker intently. "You only see her as she is with you. You don't see the... pain she carries. And you don't see the tenderness either." A smile became a grin. "I'm quite glad about that part, actually." Cassandra actually blushed.

"She doesn't have the discipline of a Seeker or a Templar," Isileth went on, her grin fading. "She doesn't have the focus born of years of training or strict duty, or a faith as strong as yours or Leliana's. Her faith is a little more... well, it's very her." She chuckled. "I don't think even she really gets it most of the time." She paused again, considering her words carefully. "She says what she thinks and she means what she says. She's got a lot more heart than most I've met. I think your problem, Cassandra, is you see me as the Herald before you see me as myself. Her being my lover has nothing to do with being Inquisitor, or with Andraste or the Maker. It's because I love her."

They both seemed equally shocked by this very public pronouncement, and sat in silence for a time watching the garden. The denizens of Skyhold went about their business around them. Trees waved in the wind and insects buzzed.

"You are right," Cassandra admitted eventually. "I sometimes forget that you are not just the Herald or the Inquisitor, but a woman. Only a woman, perhaps, in your own mind." She sighed. "I am often too quick to judge others," she continued with a trace of bitterness in her tone, "as you know. Perhaps I need to get to know her better." Cassandra frowned. "I only hope she feels as strongly about you as you do about her."

"Perhaps you could ask her," Isileth suggested only half-seriously.

"Yes," the Seeker replied gravely, nodding, "perhaps I should do that." Isileth just could not tell if she was actually joking or not. She hoped she was joking. Cassandra turned to look at the Inquisitor more directly. "I am sorry if I spoke out of turn. No... I _did_ speak out of turn, and I _am_ sorry. I did not mean to-"

"Cassandra," Isileth said gently, "it's okay. You were just looking out for a friend. In a slightly... clumsy... rude... sort of way." Cassandra just groaned, mortified, and looked like she was trying to fade into the stonework. "We can't all get straightforward romances like in those books you read, you know." Cassandra blinked.

"You... actually read one?"

"I got Varric to get me a copy so I could see what the fuss was all about." Isileth smirked. "I'm lending my copy to Dorian next."

"You are really... quite infuriating at times," Cassandra said in an exasperated tone. Her brow furrowed thoughtfully. "That would explain the attraction to Sera, of course."

Isileth's laughter drew the stares of everyone else in the garden.


	7. Chapter Seven: The Cook

A surprise leads to ill-considered words... and apologies.

* * *

The slam of the door, followed by the rapid pattering of feet on the stairs, told Isileth that the arrival of her guest was imminent. A quick and suddenly even more nervous look around the room showed that all was as it should be and everything was ready. She had time for another look all the same, and did so. _Wasn't even this worried at the Temple Of Mythal_ , she reminded herself, _get a grip_.

Sera practically flew up the last few steps into the Inquisitor's quarters but then came to a sudden halt, eyes wide with something between surprise and shock. Her only concession to the request that she "dress nicely" was that her shirt was a little newer than her other ones; the red a little brighter, the threadbare patches less prevailing. Clearly Sera had not picked up the hints about digging out the dress uniform she had worn at Halamshiral; it had looked good on her.

"So..." Isileth began, keeping a hold on her nerves, "Glad you could make it." _Ugh, stupid thing to say._

Sera for her part still seemed to be taking in what she was seeing. The transformation to Isileth's chamber was quite remarkable. The large space in the centre of the room was now occupied by a heavy, square table with room for four but with seats only for two. Upon the table were the usual accoutrements – plates, cutlery, glasses, bottles, candles. The candles were flickering in the breeze coming from the single open door – beyond them, on the balcony, stood a small, metal stove, upon which two pans bubbled and a griddle hissed with cooking meat. The wind carried the smoke from the stove away into the evening air, but even so the smell of the food carried into the room.

Sera's gaze touched upon everything in the room before finally settling on Isileth.

"What the piss is this?" It was about as close as Sera ever got to speechless.

"I wanted to treat you to something nice," Isileth replied, trying not to sound defensive. "Something we could share together, that no one else was involved in, that I could do for you." Sera smirked.

"You can do that for me any time without all this stuff," she grinned. "And no one else involved, yeah?" She looked sceptical. "Did you carry it all up here yourself? Make the table? Prepare the... whatever's cooking? Lay the plates and shit out?"

"Okay," Isileth conceded, "I had some help, and thanked everyone who volunteered to move things. But other than that? I picked out the plates, I chose the wine, I lit the candles and I prepared the meal. Uh, a meal that needs some stirring."

Sera made a circuit of the table as Isileth squeezed through the doors and out onto the balcony. The sauce was simmering nicely, almost perfect, while the potatoes were just about done. The strips of beef were almost ready, too, and then they would go into the sauce pan for the final stage.

"How come you can cook then?" Sera asked, raising her voice to be heard from inside. Isileth could see her lady love pouring herself a glass of wine and refrained from telling her not to. Sera was never going to be one to obey any form of dinner etiquette and Josephine's crash course on such things hardly made Isileth enough of an expert to complain. She was sure they would both be getting the cutlery mixed up before long, and who really cared anyway? This evening was not about that.

"My mother was a baker," the Inquisitor replied, also raising her voice to be heard as she stirred the contents of the pans. "But she also liked to cook. And a few years ago an employer of my mercenary company wanted a protector who could also cook, so I was the one that got the job."

"A mercenary chef?" Sera snorted that adorable laugh of hers. "Is there anything you can't do?"

"Handstands," Isileth responded instantly. "Play the lute. Ride side-saddle. Make hats".

"You'd never make it as a mercenary hat-maker-person, then."

"All my hats would have horn holes anyway," Isileth agreed, "and they just are not fashionable this time of year. They let the rain in." She added the beef strips to the sauce and began to stir them in, letting the meat absorb the flavours. A few minutes and the meal would be ready for serving.

Sera appeared in the gap between the doors, holding a glass in one hand and a bottle in the other. She smiled at what must have looked like a surprisingly domestic scene, albeit one situated on a castle balcony. The Inquisitor, Herald Of Andraste, slaving over the proverbial hot stove.

"This is definitely a new look," she said. "Aww, no cute little pinny? I was hoping you'd be wearing that and nothing else." Her grin was cheeky.

"It would be a little cold up here to be wearing just that," Isileth replied.

"We've worn less out here before," Sera reminded her with an even naughtier smirk.

"True," Isileth said with a grin of her own. "But now, my lady, it is almost serving time. Get back in there and get ready." Sera had made a face at the 'my lady' but her eyes lit up at the thought of food, so she quickly made her way back to the table. Isileth saw her slip onto one of the heavy chairs – naturally, not the one on the side she had taken the glass from.

The legendary Inquisitor, meanwhile, added a couple of final herbs to the sauce and stirred them in. A few minutes later and all was ready. She poured the contents of the pans into their own bowls and grabbed the serving spoons, holding them under one arm against her side as she lifted a bowl in each hand and went back inside.

"So what is it?" Sera asked. Her face had eagerness written all over it.

"It's a sort of beef stew," Isileth explained, worried that Sera might think it too 'nobby' if she used the proper name. "Seared and then stirred into a red wine sauce with other vegetables for flavour." She put the first bowl down on the table in the space prepared for it. "Served with potatoes." She put the second bowl down and then looked at Sera nervously. Sera sniffed the bowls before looking up at the worried chef.

"Orlesian, yeah?" She made a face, but then winked and grinned up at her lover. "Don't look so scaredy! If it tastes like it smells it could be week old Avaar soup for all I care. Come on, get spooning!" With an audible sigh of relief Isileth began to dish out a decent sized portion for them both before putting down the utensils and taking her own seat opposite Sera.

For a few minutes neither of them said anything as they were too busy eating. It was definitely as good as Isileth had remembered and she was glad she had recalled the recipe correctly. Sera, meanwhile, seemed to groan appreciatively with every other mouthful, whether it came from a spoon or from wiping up stray bits of sauce with a finger. It was not her usual fare but she definitely took to it with gusto.

"So," Sera began after a contented sigh, "what's all this about then?"

"I told you," Isileth replied shortly, once she had finished her own mouthful. "I wanted to do something special for you, for us." Sera watched her for a few moments, her usual impish features set in a rare serious expression.

"While we still can, yeah?" Sera added quietly. "In case we don't come back from trying to kick Corr-fee-teets in the danglies?"

"Yes," Isileth admitted, her expression similarly serious. She looked across the table at her love, like she was trying to take every feature of her into her own mind, as if every inch of Sera was not burned deeply into her memory already.

"You're a cheerful one, aren't you?" Sera told her, a hint of her usual humour in the words. It made Isileth's heart flutter. "You know we're going to hand him his arse on a plate, yeah? He's got no chance when we've got the Chef Of Andraste on our side."

Isileth barked a sudden laugh at that image – wielding a ladle and pan lid in battle – before smiling a little sadly.

"I'm surprised to hear you make a joke like that," she said and instantly regretted it as a frown darkened Sera's face like a storm cloud.

"What," Sera said with more than a hint of anger in her tone, "you think I'm all Maker this, Andraste that, and I can't make a joke about it as well? Too serious, not serious enough?" She shook her head. "Just because you don't have faith in anything doesn't mean it's not serious to me even when I'm not being serious."

"I'm sorry," Isileth said as earnestly as she knew, which was not difficult as it scared her how much she had unintentionally offended her lover. "I didn't mean to insult you. And... I do have faith. Maybe not in the Maker, or Andraste, but... Faith in myself." She frowned. "Well, most of the time. And I have faith in my friends, in the people I care about." She reached a hand across the table towards Sera. "In you. In us."

Sera stared at Isileth for several long, painful moments before her small hand slipped into Isileth's larger one. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before releasing it slowly.

"Too sensitive, yeah?" the elf murmured, tightening her grip on Isileth's long fingers.

"You?" Isileth asked, her voice gentle, while trying not to smile at the idea of Sera being a sensitive soul. Although, in some ways, she was. "Or the subject?"

"Dunno. Yeah? Both?" Sera shrugged and opened her eyes, looking back into Isileth's. There was a sadness there, and fear. Fear like she had seen in Sera's face when Sera had told her about her nightmare of Isileth dying. "Thought you might go on about other gods and demons and shit again. Like before."

"There was another reason for preparing this meal for us," Isileth admitted quietly. "To apologise. It's a... sensitive subject for you and I wanted to say sorry for not considering your feelings when theorising about things I know nothing about." She sighed and shook her head. "And then I go and bring it up all over again."

"I called you an idiot," Sera whispered. They looked at each other for another long moment before Sera's eyes dropped to the table in front of her. The only sounds for a long time were the wind, the flickering candles, and the crackling of the fire in the stove outside.

"Actually," Isileth said slowly, "you said I would sound _like_ an idiot." Sera's eyes flicked back up again to see a tentative half-smile on Isileth's face. "Not the same thing." She gave a sort of one-shouldered shrug. "So if I keep my crazy theories to myself I can at least avoid sounding like an idiot, even if I often feel like one where certain people are concerned."

They were both surprised to find they were still holding hands, something they discovered when they both reached out for the other to find they were already joined. They shared a cautious smile and Isileth released a breath she had not realised she was holding.

"Well, if we're finished," Isileth said carefully, a sentence of many meanings, "I'll clear up a bit before dessert." Standing, she gathered the bowls and utensils together, taking the opportunity to clear her throat of the pesky obstructive whatever that had gotten in there, and very specifically did not see Sera wipe her eyes on her sleeve at all.

"What's dessert?" Sera asked, a little of her customary cheek showing in the way her eyes passed across Isileth, top to toe and back again. Her eyes seemed larger than normal, possibly so they could hold all the hope Isileth saw in them.

"I baked cookies," Isileth said, a smile on her face. "Cookies are good for sharing." Sera smiled in reply, and then cocked her head in thought.

"Have you still got that hat I made for you?" she asked, her hands fidgeting anxiously with a fork.

"Absolutely," Isileth said immediately. She pointed to the shelves behind her desk, where the hat could be seen on the top shelf amid some books. The cookies themselves were on a plate in the cupboard part of the desk. At the sight of the hat Sera made a throaty chuckle.

"I think I'd like to see you serve me cookies wearing that hat," she announced with a big smile.

Isileth gave her an acknowledging bow of the head and turned towards the shelves, but turned back as Sera spoke again.

"...and nothing else, yeah?"

They each looked into the other's eyes for a second, Sera's seeking permission and finding consent in Isileth's slow smile, upon which that familiar grin blossomed on Sera's lovely face. The Inquisitor's hands moved to her collar and she snapped open the fastener there.

"I think I can arrange that."


	8. Chapter Eight: After

There is peace in the Frostback Basin. Corypheus has been defeated. The threat from the Deep Roads has been averted. So now what?

* * *

It was the noise that woke her. The sound of drawers and cupboards being opened and closed, and things being moved around. Through the tiniest sliver of opened eyelid she could see the room was still mostly dark but the faintest bloom of dawn was on the horizon, it's dim light creeping in through the windows. In an hour, possibly less, it would be dawn in truth.

The other side of the bed was empty, devoid of even the residual warmth of another body, suggesting its other semi-frequent occupant had been up for some time. The rustling caused by her hand passing over the sheets made the noise on the other side of the room cease in a manner that could only be called furtive.

She sighed and pushed herself upright, looking around through sleep-fogged eyes.

"Sera," Isileth grumbled, slurring the word a little as she rubbed her face with one hand. "What's going on?"

Sera had the look of a startled animal caught by surprise by a fierce predator. Her eyes were wide, her hands were full of clothing from the wardrobe and she was... fully dressed in nondescript clothing? She recovered quickly though, taking on a serious demeanour.

"Thought you'd wake up earlier," Sera complained in a subdued tone as she went back to pushing clothing into a travel bag. "Must've been proper knackered from all that paper you've been wrestling with, yeah?" Isileth groaned.

"Don't remind me," she said just as quietly, crossing her legs to sit up straighter. "I don't think all that stuff is ever going to end now the real work is done." She kept the covers up around her, mainly for the cold. "What's the packing for?"

"We've got somewhere we need to be," Sera explained as she worked, "special mission, message in the night, that kind of shit. Was having a good dream, too, was going to tell you about it in the morning." She sent a wicked grin over her shoulder. "Have to wait now."

"Is there anyone else who-" Isileth began, but was interrupted.

"Everyone who needs to, knows. It's special Jenny stuff, yeah? Want to see you, big high Inquisitor things."

"What kind of things?" Isileth sighed and pulled herself off the ridiculously expansive bed. As she went to grab herself some underthings Sera kept at her task. "Important things, I gather?"

"Wouldn't say," Sera told her, "must be important if they won't do that. Prying ears, maybe."

"They suspect someone in Skyhold might be, what, listening in?" The thought was a worrying one, and had been a concern all through the Corypheus crisis. Leliana had kept the enemy's agents at bay, though, and Isileth had no cause to doubt her reports on the subject. But what if there had been agents for someone else they had not known to look for? Isileth grimaced. "I hope we're not on the brink of some new disaster."

"Probably more worried about their end," Sera said with a shrug. "Scary keeps the nasties out of here."

"True enough." Isileth looked at the pile of clothing that had been unceremoniously dropped on her desk. "This is for me, I take it?"

"We have to be, y'know, subtle and shit." Sera tied the last bag shut and turned around, one held in each hand. She had pulled a hood up over her hair and dressed as she was she could have been mistaken for a traveller, pilgrim or refugee from anywhere in Ferelden. The gear laid out for Isileth would have much the same effect for her, though it would obviously not hide her height or other obvious features. Even the cowl would only conceal so much.

"They don't want to announce they've got the Inquisitor visiting them, then?" She started to get dressed and noticed that she would end up dressed very similarly to how she had looked at the Conclave. A mercenary qunari was the simplest disguise.

"If you stroll around all bright armour and flashing the hairy eyeball," Sera grinned, "it would be bad for everyone involved. Apparently." She watched as her lover pulled the last of her clothing on. "We stash the official gear and the shiny bows and look like normal people for a change. It'll be good not to be stared at and adored all the time, yeah? Remind us both where we came from, too."

"You've talked about getting back to 'where we came' from quite a bit these last few weeks," Isileth said quietly as she strapped on a leather jerkin. "I know you've felt isolated up here. And not just from the Jennies."

"Yeah, well," Sera replied, "it's long way up and from here everyone looks so small. Like pieces on that stupid table of yours, right? You can forget they stand for people. People that hurt and cry and piss and eat and laugh." She seemed to be staring at something on the floor but her mind was definitely elsewhere. "Hated living in the dirt but that's who I am, yeah? Kind of forgotten that here."

"We'll make sure to find you some dirt while we look into this problem, then," Isileth told her. Sera looked back to Isileth as if expecting to find she was being mocked, a hurt expression already creeping onto her face, but it slipped quickly into a grin at the sight of the half-smile on her lover's face. "It'll do us both good to go unofficial for a while," Isileth said quietly. "If only to escape the paperwork," she added dryly.

It seemed strange to be sneaking though her own stronghold, but that was how Isileth and Sera made their way out of the main doors. There were no guards and the torches and fires had burned low and orange in the great hall, sending weird shadows flickering around the huge bird statuary and almost hiding the distant throne from view.

Sera was the one making it a stealthy enterprise, presumably so as not to disturb whatever inhabitants of Skyhold might already be up. She jumped off the main steps about halfway down as a shortcut and Isileth followed. Nestled in the arch under the staircase were two horses, all prepared and ready to go. Isileth was surprised – Sera had been busy for longer than she'd thought. Sera took hold of the reins of one and started to lead it out.

"Come on," she said in a loud whisper, "we have to hurry before, right, anyone tries to come with us. Secret mission, yeah?" Isileth frowned and, shaking her head to dislodge a suspicion, followed after her, leading the other horse.

As they neared the gates Isileth spotted two guards atop the wall on watch. At any moment they would turn around and see them crossing the courtyard... and just why was that a problem, anyway? Sera's sneakiness was just making Isileth feel unnecessarily cautious, and in her own fortress no less! Isileth shook off the feeling and noticed both guards had turned to face a different direction, one that... meant she and Sera was almost guaranteed to pass unnoticed. It was eerily timed and terribly convenient.

As they passed under the final arch a figure stepped out of the shadows, slim and silent as a ghost.

"They won't see you now," Cole explained in his stilted voice, somehow quieter than it had any right to be. His strange eyes swept across them both. "Lost in memory. Family, friends, loss and victory. You have your mission." He nodded to Isileth and then looked at Sera in that weird, intense way he had. Isileth gritted her teeth and she could practically feel Sera tense up from head to foot as if to brace herself.

Cole opened his mouth to speak and... paused. With visible effort he restrained himself from speaking and merely took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Then he spoke.

"Good luck." Nothing more. No revelations from within, no embarrassing truths.

"Thank you, Cole," Isileth told him, hoping she had conveyed every degree of her thanks with just those words and her expression. She started to lead her horse on, but Sera remained a moment longer.

"Thanks... weirdo." It was said so quickly that one might almost have thought Sera had not spoken at all, but Cole gravely inclined his head in reply and walked back into Skyhold. Sera then led her horse out of the gates, and while Isileth kept her expression neutral she felt a great deal of pride in that moment.

They walked a short way in silence before mounting the horses and riding off at a brisk canter down the long and winding mountain path from Skyhold. Before long they were out of sight of anyone in the fortress, or at least far enough away to avoid being immediately identified. And there again was that feeling of being somehow deceptive... or of being deceived.

Isileth pulled on the reins of her horse and the horse slowed and eventually stopped. Sera, frowning, did the same.

"Come on!" she said. "Mission, yeah? Important! Got to hurry!" She looked as if the situation really was urgent, or... she was afraid of being caught.

"Sera..." Isileth began gently, and then shook her head. Pulling back the cowl she looked Sera in the eyes. "There's no mission, is there?" Sera tried to look insulted, then shocked, and finally worried, before her face fell.

"Shittity shit!" she yelled, her eyes suddenly filling with tears that she angrily cuffed away. Slipping off her horse she disappeared behind it and continued to swear loudly. "So close!" she shouted. All that was visible of her was her hands, shaking fists at the sky. "So pissing close! And now we're going to have to go back..." The swearing continued anew.

Isileth climbed off her own animal and went around the other side of Sera's to find her with her face in her hands. Drawing her into an embrace she let Sera rant for a while between sobs.

"Just tell me," Isileth told her softly, no anger or reproach.

"Just wanted to get away," Sera mumbled into her arms, "just us, no mission no people no shit no demons."

"So you decided to tell me we had a secret mission so we could sneak out of Skyhold together with no one the wiser, me in particular." Sera nodded into her chest. It all made a horrible kind of sense. Isileth sighed. "And you didn't think to just ask me?"

Sera was suddenly looking up at her, eyes wet and confused.

"Eh?"

"You don't think I want to get out of there sometimes myself?" Isileth said, surprised. "Especially now. Now all the travelling's done, the demons fought, the alliances made." She made a face. "Now it's just clean up, dealing with the last stragglers of that bastard's plans and agents. So we don't get to visit strange places so much anymore, uncover ancient secrets and all that..."

"...all that stuff you really loved doing," Sera finished for her. She wiped her eyes.

"It's like it's all become paperwork and paying back favours," Isileth grumbled. "Who wouldn't want to get away from that for a bit?"

"So... you'd have come anyway?"

"Of course, you dafthead," Isileth chuckled. "I'd have ordered them all to stay behind if I'd thought that would actually work. As it is, sneaking out was the next best option." She looked down at Sera's upturned face. "Did you at least tell _someone_? Leave them a note or something?"

"Yeah, course!" Sera sounded indignant. "I left it on that big table. Somewhere. I think." She didn't sound terribly certain.

"Well, my dear," Isileth said with a smile. "This has to be your biggest prank ever. Stealing the Inquisitor." Sera grinned in reply, but slightly ruined it with a noisy sniff.

"Do you ever think about..." Sera began, but stopped. Isileth nodded at her to continue. "About what comes next? If the Inquisition ends, or you're no longer needed or something?" Her face was intent.

"I hope I'll always be needed," Isileth told her and momentarily tightened her embrace on Sera into a hug, which drew a smile. "But seriously?" She paused in thought for a moment, looking up at the brightening sky. "I never wanted it but I was the only one who could do what was needed. But now... I think anyone could do what needs doing now. Except for the remaining rifts, I suppose. It's just beating the last of the Venatori in the south, and tracking down the last of the red templars and so on. If there was someone I could trust to do the job right – and there's quite a few of them – I would be happy to hand it all over to them and do something new."

"I just wish it could be just the two of us, against the world," Sera said quietly. "Like we always said." Isileth looked at her, expression serious.

"It's _always_ been just the two of us, love," Isileth said softly. She gently caressed Sera's check with her fingers, then ran a thumb over Sera's lips, lips that kissed the pad of it as it passed. "Everyone else was just along for the ride." Isileth smiled. "Shall we get going before they catch us?"

Sera's smile was all the answer she needed.


End file.
